


My Heart to Joy at the Same Tone

by Ellegrine



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Adoption, Alpha Bruce Wayne, Alpha Tim Drake, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Garzonas Case, Gen, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd is Robin, Never Repost My Work Anywhere, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Jason Todd, Omega Jason Todd Week 2020, Omega Verse, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pack Family, Pack Feels, Platonic Courting, Protective Tim Drake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:11:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23567698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellegrine/pseuds/Ellegrine
Summary: Tim Drake squares his shoulders and clutches the manila envelope in his hands. It’s … it’s evidence that will clear Jason Todd. And as much as Tim doesn’t want to reveal his knowledge of Batman and Robin’s identities, as much as he’s concerned about how Bruce Wayne will react, Tim can’t keep quiet anymore.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 88
Kudos: 841
Collections: omega Jason Todd week 2020





	My Heart to Joy at the Same Tone

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the following stanza of the poem _Alone_ by Edgar Allan Poe: 
> 
> _My heart to joy at the same tone --_  
_And all I lov'd -- I lov'd alone --_
> 
> This was written for Day Four of Omega Jason Todd Week 2020 for the prompt: Unconventional Courting Presents.
> 
> A big thank you to TheFightingBull for being my sounding-board.

Tim Drake squares his shoulders and clutches the manila envelope in his hands. It’s … it’s evidence that will clear Jason Todd. And as much as Tim doesn’t want to reveal his knowledge of Batman and Robin’s identities, as much as he’s concerned about how Bruce Wayne will react, Tim can’t keep quiet anymore.

He had been content to stay in the shadows when it didn’t affect anything.

But —

Tim will never forget the look of raw agony that crossed <strike> Jason’s</strike> Robin’s face when <strike> Bruce</strike> Batman showed up and accused Jason of killing Felipe Garzonas.

The stench of hurt Omega had been so pungent it overpowered Robin’s scent-blocking patches. Tim had been able to taste it on his tongue from where he stealthily watched. And he knew, in that moment, that he couldn’t leave _ his _ Robin to suffer from such an assumption.

It enrages the newly presented Alpha in Tim that Bruce would dare accuse Jason of murder. And then, refuse to believe Jason when Jason said he didn’t do it. But that Bruce would dare to speak out, at all, against an Omega potentially killing someone like Garzonas, when it’s perfectly legal for Omegas to defend others against creatures like that, is why Tim’s here.

Because if Bruce is going to disapprove of and shame Jason for acting on his instincts — even though he didn’t in this particular case — then Bruce doesn’t deserve <strike> Jason</strike> an Omega for his Pack.

Jason is everything bright and wonderful and perfect in the world.

And if Bruce Wayne is too deluded to realize that, then Tim is more than happy to take Jason off his hands.

He’s never cared all that much about Batman. It’s always been Robin that enraptured him.

Tim knocks on the front door of Wayne Manor. 

The door opens just a few moments later, revealing Alfred Pennyworth. The elderly Beta smiles and says, “How may I help you, Master Timothy?”

Tim knows how to make adults take him seriously. Even though she’s often traveling, his mother, Janet Drake, has taught him precisely what to do in any circumstance to get exactly what he wants out of a situation. Drakes are the Kings and Queens of whatever room they happen to be in. They always get what they want, and no one is foolish enough to cross them and survive.

So Tim centers his mind, smiles his mother’s cutthroat smile — the one that can make people freeze in place or flee a room, depending on how she wields it — and states, “I have surveillance photos for Batman.”

To his credit, Alfred doesn’t say he has no idea what Tim is talking about. 

“Very good, sir. Please come in,” Alfred says. “He and Master Jason have just sat down to breakfast. I’ll set a place for you.”

“Thank you,” Tim says, because there’s never an excuse for poor manners. 

Mother uses pleases and thank yous like knives and Tim learned to do the same, as he learned all her weapons. He’s a master of all; Janet Drake’s pride and joy, her masterpiece.

He steps in the Manor and walks unerringly to the breakfast room. He’s never been there before, but Tim has the blueprints of the Manor memorized. There’s no excuse to enter a battle unarmed with insufficient knowledge. 

Mother taught him that everything in life is a battle. _ Everything. _

“Timothy Drake?” Bruce asks, looking confused for just a moment before he dons his Brucie mask. “What can I do for you?”

Honestly, it's pathetic that anyone in Gotham falls for it. High Society is full of fools who only see what they want to see. That’s how it’s so easy to lead them along like sheep and take advantage of them. Mother has nearly doubled the family fortune by bleeding the idiots dry of information, only to then turn it against them. It’s a little hobby of hers, for when she’s actually in Gotham and not slowly taking over the world.

Tim is both looking forward to and dreading the day she succeeds and decides to dump the world in his lap as his next test. _ There’s going to be so much paperwork involved. _

Jason is sitting several seats away from Bruce. It infuriates Tim. Because the Pack Omega is always meant to sit at the Head of the Table. That Bruce didn’t relinquish his position there to sit at the Pack Omega’s Right Hand is _ wrong. _

The scent of exhausted-defeat wafts off Jason.

It takes every ounce of training his mother taught him to keep from launching over the table and punching Bruce Wayne in the face. Because the Drakes are primitive in their Pack dynamics. And no matter how Bruce might couch it, leaving an Omega smelling like Jason does — especially the Pack Omega — is abusive.

A Pack Omega is the heart of a Pack. The life of a Pack. The future of a Pack.

An Alpha who fails to properly care for an Omega doesn’t deserve an Omega at all. 

Is this normal? Does Jason always smell miserable when he’s in the Manor? Does he always sit with his shoulders hunched, as if he feels worthless or is worried he will be hit? Does … does Bruce hit him? Is Jason so small after years of living in the Manor not because of early malnutrition, but because Bruce is failing to provide for his emotional needs?

Alfred enters the room with the dishes necessary for another place setting. 

The butler draws his attention just long enough for Tim to wonder how Alfred could have failed so horribly to raise Bruce properly. Now that he’s seeing Jason first-hand in the Manor, there’s no excuse for Alfred to allow such an abusive dynamic to remain.

“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Pennyworth, but thank you,” Tim states. He mustn’t forget his manners, regardless of how little these people deserve them.

He’s not sitting down at Bruce’s table and eating his food. He refuses to accept hospitality from someone who can sit in the same room as an emotionally wounded Omega and do nothing about it, especially an Alpha who would dare to take the Omega’s place at the table. 

“As you say, young sir.”

Tim _ is _ taking Jason with him.

It’s blatantly obvious that Batman can’t be trusted with Tim’s Robin. 

It’s even more obvious that Jason doesn’t need Batman, or to be Robin. What Jason needs is to be _ cherished. _ He needs to be honored as an Omega should be honored. He needs to have Pack Bonds that will grow and flourish and give him protection and strength. Because if Jason’s paling complexion is any indication, Bruce’s distrust and disgust with Jason’s supposed murder of Garzonas are traveling down the Pack Bond and hurting Jason directly.

Tim will not allow that to continue.

He doesn’t take his eyes off Bruce as he hands the manila envelope to Jason.

“What is it?” Jason asks, voice hoarse as if he spent the entire night crying.

Tim pets Jason’s curls, dragging his wrist along Jason’s scalp in the process to scent-mark him. He smirks when Bruce’s gaze narrows and Jason’s breath catches. 

“I suppose,” Tim says, cold and amused, “you can consider it a Courting Gift, though it’s definitely unconventional.”

“He’s _ fifteen. _ And you’re _ thirteen,” _ Bruce grits out, voice layered with so much shocked disapproval it makes Tim roll his eyes.

“Some Alphas know Omegas are worth more than sex,” Tim says, before leaning down and licking up the right side of Jason’s neck — it’s the side for Pack Family — covering Bruce’s weak scent in the process. How long has it been since Bruce last scented the Omega in his care? Tim feels vindicated when Jason rolls his head to the side and keens, allowing Tim better access. Tim licks Jason’s neck again and again, watching how Bruce shakes with each swipe of his tongue.

“You have no right —”

“On the contrary,” Tim says with a smirk, after setting his chin on Jason’s head, “I have every right. I’m the Drake Pack Alpha; I can offer a place in my Pack to anyone I want.”

It’s true, too. There’s a reason Tim’s an only child. His parents are both Betas. However, if Jason accepts his offer — and why wouldn’t he? Drakes are clearly far superior to Waynes — Tim will finally have a brother. He won’t be alone in his den all the time.

Nothing in the world is safer than the object of a Drake’s obsession. 

Tim wants Jason as his brother. When Jason comes with him, Jason will never have to fear being hurt again. And if, somehow, it happens, vengeance upon the person who caused it will be so brutal that society will speak of it in whispers for generations.

Jason inhales sharply. His scent fluctuates between awed-shock and so-grateful-it-hurts.

_ “Tim.” _

“For the record,” Tim says, still not breaking eye contact with Bruce, “I would have believed you even if I hadn’t witnessed it.”

“What’s in the envelope?” Bruce grits out. 

He still hasn’t looked away. It amuses Tim that Bruce Wayne feels so threatened by a thirteen-year-old Alpha that he won’t break eye contact first.

It’s Jason who answers, throwing a series of photographs onto the table with a sharp gesture. “Proof you’re not the World’s Greatest Detective.”

_ That _gets a reaction.

Bruce finally looks away from Tim to observe the photographs on the table. Even though they’re out of the meticulous order Tim put them in when he sealed the envelope, he knows the story they tell. Felipe Garzonas, drunk, tripping and falling to his death; Robin is clearly too far away to have pushed him.

The stench of REGRET! is a screaming assault on Tim’s senses, so pungent that it _ burns. _

“Jaylad,” Bruce rasps, “I—”

Tim takes a step back as Jason moves to stand up from the breakfast table. Side-by-side, Jason is shorter than he is. Tim is determined to change that; he wants Jason happy and healthy and home.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce says, oozing genuine-remorse into the room.

“I believe you,” Jason says.

Bruce’s shoulders relax and a slight smile appears on his face.

“But I obviously can’t trust you,” Jason adds, before offering his right wrist to Tim.

“No!” Bruce objects, face paling. “That’s not—”

Tim doesn’t give Bruce a chance to change Jason’s mind. Jason offered his wrist, accepting Tim’s Courting Gift. He’s chosen Tim as his Pack Alpha and brother; Tim will not allow anything or anyone to take that away from him. He bites down on Jason’s unmarked wrist, teeth sinking into his skin. Blood spills across his tongue as a Pack Bond flares to life between them. He smirks against Jason’s skin as Bruce cries out and flinches as the process Severs every old Pack Bond Jason used to have.

The bite heals as soon as Tim removes his teeth from Jason’s flesh.

Jason’s got a fist pressed to his chest. His voice wavers as he whispers, “You _ love _ me. I can _ feel _ it.”

“Of course,” Tim replies.

How could he not love Jason? Jason is the brightest, best part of Gotham. He’s the light in the shadows and the magic in the world. He’s fierce and fiesty and faithful to his ideals. Tim couldn’t find a more qualified Drake Pack Omega if he searched the entire world. He couldn’t find a better brother if he hunted the entire universe.

“Jaylad—”

“You don’t have permission to speak to my Pack Omega,” Tim says, frigid and every inch Janet Drake’s son. “Especially not so familiarly.”

Just as Tim expects, pure awe flows down the newly established bond from Jason to hit Tim right in the chest. He knows how Jason adores classic literature, how he spends hours in the library with his nose buried in romance books and period piece novels, dreaming of being one of the Omegas in the pages. Since his brother wants that, Tim’s going to give it to him — every bit of protocol, every law, every courtesy, every single thing that makes an Omega feel treasured and powerful, Tim will offer Jason. 

“We’ll be leaving now,” Tim says, voice implying awful consequences should Bruce or Alfred disagree. “Thank you for your time.”

Bruce opens his mouth anyway, as if he’s going to argue, but then pauses and snaps it shut when he sees the photographs splayed across the table. Tim doesn’t have to say a single word on the topic for the man to realize that if Tim has these photographs, he surely has more. And there’s absolutely no telling what they show.

Janet Drake is infamous for puppeteering a media story her way.

There’s no way Bruce can miss the implication that Tim is willing to destroy Bruce and Alfred and Dick Grayson, if necessary, to keep Jason.

Bruce’s scent vanishes and he slaps on his society Brucie mask. “It was no trouble at all, Alpha Drake. Please come over any time! It was a delight to have you.”

_ Liar. _

Severed Pack Bonds, supposedly, are the worst pain in the entire world. Tim wouldn’t know first-hand, and he never intends to experience it himself. Thankfully, Jason is saved from the agony of it due to being the Omega who initiated the Severance. The person escaping an awful Pack never suffers the repercussions the failed Packmates do.

Tim doesn’t pity them one bit.

They got what they deserved for failing to adequately care for _ his _ brother.

“Do you want anything from your room before we go home?” Tim asks Jason.

Jason glances up at the ceiling, as if his room is right above them and he can see into it. He bites his lip. Then, decisively, Jason shakes his head. “I don’t want any of it.”

Tim grins as Bruce flinches. That’s immensely satisfying. He’s looking forward to providing everything that Jason could possibly want. It’s an Alpha’s honor, after all, to see to every need of the Omega in his care.

“Then let’s go,” Tim says. 

He wraps his arm around Jason’s shoulders and walks toward the front door. As expected, Alfred opens it for them. 

“Travel safely, young sirs,” Alfred says in farewell.

“Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth,” Tim replies.

Once the door is closed behind them, Jason rubs his thumb over the scar on his wrist and whispers, “Jason Drake, of the Gotham Drakes.”

Tim hugs Jason tightly, loving that Jason naturally tucks his head under Tim’s chin, and grins smugly at Bruce from where he’s watching through the nearest window. How ironic that it’s now Bruce on the inside looking out, instead of Tim on the outside looking in.

Jason is _ his _ now. And Tim is too smart and emotionally invested to do anything that might cost him his new brother.

Tim nuzzles Jason and purrs with triumphant satisfaction, “Jason _ Drake, _ the _ Drake _ Pack Omega.”


End file.
